Pest
by Lady Shockbox
Summary: Doga Blue is being a pest and Doga Purple is doing everything in his willpower to keep from punching him in the face. Minor Slash. Oneshot.


Happy New Years, everyone! So, to get ready for 2011, here's another SD Gundam fanfic from me to you. My New Years resolution is to finish all my chapter fanfics done and out of the way. I procrastinate badly and would like to make it my mission to toughen up and actually get things done. With that said, here's a little oneshot starring two of our four favorite Doga commandos - Blue and Purple! I've never seen a story with any of them as the focus characters, so I'm fairly proud to say that I might very well be the first! That being said, SD Gundam Force is not mine. I own nothing at all, save for the plot and their individual names. Concrit is loved and snuggled on a regular basis.

* * *

**Pest**

(noun) - a persistently annoying person

~Dictionary App

**i**

Evenings like these made him wish that he was deaf, or that he at least had a much more developed sense of patience.

"Please?"

"No."

"_Pretty_ please?"

"Absolutely _not._"

"…Pretty please with a cup of hot oil?"

"I am going to _murder_ you."

Things had not always been like this, of course. He specifically joined the Doga Commando Four after Doga Brown had been killed, and his application to replace Brown for commandoship had been reviewed by Professor Gerbera and the three remaining Doga Commandos themselves before he was approved to join. He was assigned his commando color and given structural upgrades before joining the Four as Doga Purple. At the time, the Four consisted of Steelwing White, Pyrate Pink, Darktide Grey, and now himself − Doga Violent Purple. That particular lineup did not last long, however. Not three lunar cycles after he joined, Pyrate was captured during one of her routine patrols, tortured, and finally slaughtered at the hands of enemy Gundams. Not a week later, Steelwing hung himself in his quarters. The suspicion that the two commandos were bondmates was highly evident, but that much was the least of the remaining two of the Four's concerns. Darktide and Violent needed two more Dogas to renew the quartet.

First came Doga Darwin Yellow. Then came Doga Navy Blue.

Being the most recent to join, Navy was the youngest of the four commandos. Consequently, his young nature also made him the most irritating. While Darwin was also considerably young, the margin between his and Violent's own age was not as drastic, and that therefore made the yellow commando much more tolerable. Darwin was at least able to behave _moderately_ civil and he got along just fine with both Darktide and Violent, but Navy was a purebred troublemaker by comparison. If it was possible for the blue commando to pull off some elaborately godforsaken prank and get away with it, he would by any means go through with it. Many mechs and femmes fell victim to Navy's childish antics, although the most severe case had to have been when Commander Nightingale − leaving the Dark Axis Fortress from a meeting she had with General Zeong − unintentionally triggered an incredibly sophisticated booby-trap that the troublesome Doga had set up. Seventeen cans of paint remover and a strict court marshaling affterwards, Navy was put on house arrest for a solid twelve orns, but hardly stopped him from going back to his old habits as soon as he was off probation.

Exactlyhow _his_ application for commandoship made it through Professor Gerbera, Violent had absolutely _no_ idea. He was beginning to regret approving Navy's application himself, although it was far too late and gone to reconsider.

Their shared quarters was barely lit with the only source of light coming from Violent's console screen. Whereas Professor Gerbera had his own quarters, the Doga Commando Four were required to split two rooms between them. This was to apparently allow room for "team building" as Professor Gerbera insisted on calling it. Darktide and Darwin boarded together because they naturally got along, although Violent suspected that there was a deeper reason − it was no secret that the two commandos fancied one another on a much more personal level. Unfortunately, it left him with the only option of rooming with the always wearisome Doga Blue.

And how he _hated_ it.

Dogas were naturally clean and very tidy, but Navy single handedly managed to turn that unspoken rule upside down simply by _existing_. His entire half of their shared quarters was a disastrous mess, littered with randomly assorted video game cartridges and half assembled energy weapons. _How_ he could manage to live in such filth, Violent had no idea. He seldom even liked to _recall_ that he was forced to share space with the troublesome blue commando, and as such, he tried to isolate himself from Navy as much as possible. The task had proven itself more difficult than he hoped. Navy seemed to be drawn to him like a magnet in the most obnoxious way possible, made painfully evident in the late hours of the night whenever Violent was in his worst moods. The chemistry between them was downright _horrid_, and the blue Axian clearly had no sense of self preservation when it came to dealing with his purple counterpart.

Violent had to resist the urge to hiss, making his voice come out as a gravely sneer. "You're infuriating."

The blue Doga commando either ignored his purple cast counterpart or did not hear him, because was nuzzling him without a hint of caution again. He was standing directly behind him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in a lazy half hug and his helm propped against a tense wing. "Aw, I love you too Violent. Now c'mon, Vi. It's, like, _totally_ past your bedtime. You don't want to wake up all grumpy in the morning now, do you?"

This was a routine that occurred every night. Violent would usually be up to his neck in paperwork and Navy would be playing a noisy video game, and the blue Doga Commando would immediately take it upon himself to harass his roommate as soon as he lost a level or got bored. Violent was always less than thrilled to be at the receiving end of his attention whenever it happened − especially _this_ time around. This time Navy actually suggested that they go to the recharge plate at the same time and… _snuggle_. Violent did not care to ask what brought about this particular request, nor did he care. It made him want to purge his fuel tank and gauge out his optic with a rusty industrial spike. There was only one recharge plate in their room, large enough for two separate Dogas of their caliber to sleep on without touching, but Navy's insisting that they try sleeping so close to one another made the other Doga nearly ill. Violent had to resist the urge to live up to his namesake and instead resorted to grating tetchily. "If you were not part of the Four, I would kill you. Painfully."

The threat went unnoted. Navy was as incredibly fearless as he was also unbelievably stupid. The younger mech's optic brightened in a broad grin and he threw both his arms over Violet's shoulders lazily. Like a sparkling, he nudged the back of his partner's head with his helmet and continued to rankle him. "Pretty _pretty_ please, then? With high grade energon and lead pellets on top?"

Mentally, Violent debated the pros and cons of trying to strangle him. "It is taking all my willpower to keep myself from seriously hurting you. You have _your_ side of the plate and I have _mine_. I refuse to be victimized to your immature antics."

"Immature? Who's being immature?" Out of the corner of his vision, Violent could see Navy blink perplexedly. Either the mech _was_ incredibly stupid, or his acting was up to par. "C'_mon,_ 'Tide and 'Win share a berth just like we do. It's, like, not that big a deal."

_Punching him in the face and breaking both his legs is _not_ the answer to your problems_, Violent mentally reminded himself with a barely contained growl. Cranking his head up to glare hatefully at the goofy mech, he scowled petulantly and hoped that he would look somewhat intimidating. "It must also be taken into consideration that sleeping isn't the _only_ thing Darktide and Darwin do when they're in the berth. You're more of an idiot that I originally thought if you haven't figured that out."

"_Please_," Navy said primly. He rolled his optic and waved his hand. "We've had _our_ moments too, haven't we?"

Navy was right of course, and Violent _hated_ him for it. The purple Doga Commando growled. "_Flings_. An interface here and there doesn't mean that we're in a relationship, _Doga Blue_."

"Pfft, and you call _me_ the immature one…" Navy looked down at Violent again crossly. "Honestly, what the Pitt is your problem? Did something crawl up your exhaust port and, like, die in there? You're a pretty messed up mech, Vi. You push everyone away who tries to be friendly with you. Y'know, I had the option of rooming with Darwin instead of you, but I picked you because I _like_ you. Now man the slag up and haul your sorry aft up into bed. If you're this cranky now, I'd hate to see you at breakfast tomorrow. Professor Gerb will _totally_ frag you up if you throw a hissy and punch another scientist in the face like last time."

Violent sighed, though more so in frustration rather than release. Truth be told, he _was_ tired. Filling out paperwork for Darktide concerning the status of their Doga Bomber air force was much harder work than anticipated. Everything had to be filled out _perfectly_ for presentation at the next meeting Professor Gerbera held with the invasion commanders. If something was askew with the paperwork, Darktide would be down his throat and Professor Gerbera would more than likely ground him for punishment. Dogas, under any circumstance, could _not_ afford to be grounded. Having the right to fly stripped away tended to make fliers go stir crazy. All of them −Doga Bombers and the Four alike − were all claustrophobic and highly neurotic when it came to being enclosed in small spaces. It was for this reason that all their rooms were designed to be big and have large windows showing the outside, but not being able to fly was akin more closely to torture rather than punishment. Violent was especially fearful of the fact, although he was never going to admit that to anyone… let alone _Navy_, for that matter. Gingerly, he reached a hand up to pinch his temple. "Okay, fine. I'll go recharge with you, but there will be absolutely _no_ cuddling."

With a victorious whoop, the younger commando sharply leapt backward and threw his hands into the air in triumph. Caught off guard, Violent's chair skittered backward and slipped from underneath him. He shrieked as he fell backward and hit his head on the concrete floor with a clatter, hitting his head hard enough to make him see static.

"Son of a _glitch_," Violent hissed. He rolled onto his stomach and glared accusingly at Navy. The blue Doga saw him fall and froze like a deer in the headlights… before cracking up and doubling over in busting laughter. In an instant, Violent saw red. The purple commando could hardly contain his fury and there was no time for him to get a hold of his now wildly out of control temper. "That's _it_. C'mere you fraggin' brat! You are _dead!_"

He snatched his arm out to grab Navy's ankle. Despite how juvenilely _stupid_ the blue cast commando was, he had very fast reflexes. Maybe _that_ was the reason his commando request forms made it past Gerbera. What the warrior lacked in sufficient brains, he certainly made up for it with his agility. Doga Blue leapt high into the air with a playful cackle and activated his antigravs to avoid capture. Violent reacted violently, living up to his namesake as he scrambled to his feet and shot into the air with a roar of unrestrained rage. His turbines screamed loud enough to undoubtedly wake their fellow commandos sleeping just across just across the hallway. Maybe even Professor Gerbera heard them too, but Violent didn't care. Navy's laughter was cut short as he was brutally tackled and forced up against the ceiling. He yelped in pain as his wings scraped against the roof of their bedroom, batting his hands at the other mech's back in a struggle to escape the death grip Violent caught him in. Growling, Violent smashed their foreheads together. Whist he had steeled himself for the blow, Navy was caught totally unawares and Violent could practically _hear_ the younger partner's processor as it rattled inside his head. Navy plummeted and fell heavily to the floor with his bearings totally gone, and both mechs collapsed with a hideously loud clamor of metal striking metal.

Three sharp knocks came at the door. Doga Yellow's slightly accented voice was highly agitated and coarse. "Violent! Navy! Quit banging in there! Darktide and I are trying to _sleep_, damn it!"

Violent cast a glare over his shoulder at the door. He could feel his armor shaking from his unrestrained anger. "Frag off!"

The momentary distraction was brief, but it was enough. Before Violent could redirect his attention back to his pinned prey, a hand shot up and grabbed him by his mask. With a harsh _tug_, Violent suddenly found himself thrown aside and pinned by the right shoulder underneath a slightly shaken Navy. Violent would have immediately retaliated to regain the upper hand if it wasn't for Navy's next move. The younger mech snatched his hand out and began petting his wing _right there_. Doga Blue's optic was playfully lit and his head was cocked in a manner that made it look like he was wearing a lopsided grin. "That wasn't very nice, Vi."

"I am going to _kill_ you," Violent sneered venomously. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep from melting into Navy's ridiculously delicate touch, although he could feel his anger fading from a furious heat into a much tamer one.

Navy scoffed breathlessly − no doubt he was still reeling to the blow he had gotten to the head − and he bent his head down close to Violent's face. The blue mech touched their foreheads together and the hand on his wing began to caress the metal in delicious circles. "C'mon now, Vi. You _know_ you like it."

And the degrading thing was that Navy was right. Against his better will, Violent could feel his systems beginning to unintentionally heat up – the little twinges of pleasure originating from his wing beginning to seep into the rest of his body like one giant, oversensitive circuit. Biting back a moan, he glared accusingly up at Navy in stubborn silence. This was the other part of the relationship – the _fling_ aspect. It was becoming obnoxiously more and more frequent nowadays, Violent realized.

"_Dude_, lighten _up_. It's just you and me. There's no reason for you to act like a big tough guy. Who's gonna know if you quit your bravado for, like, just a few hours? Just chill out and relax, will ya?" Navy laughed condescendingly, giving Violent's sensitive wingtip a short squeeze before hauling himself back to his feet. Just before he drew himself to his full height, he pulled his hand away. The younger mech almost casually dusted himself off and smirked down at him. "C'mon you big baby. Bedtime. If you behave, I might pet your wings a little while longer."

Violent felt his energy field reel with displeasure at the loss of contact on his wing, but he grudgingly forced himself to bite back a whine of disapproval. He sat up quickly − he was venerable in that position − and glared sideways at Navy as the younger mech leapt up into their shared recharge berth. Whilst Navy's side of the room was furthest from the door and closest to the huge window that made up the entire right side of the room, Violent's was on the left. They tended to sleep on their corresponding side of the recharge berth as well, but Navy had very obviously contented himself with sprawling across the entire thing and patting it invitingly. With a growl of suppressed irritation, Violent reluctantly waltzed over, and roughly shoving Navy out of the way, he carefully laid himself down.

The younger Doga immediately wrapped his hands around Violent's waist and pressed their faces together. It was not a kiss − their awkward love-hate relationship had not gone that far into obscurity yet − but it was affectionate never the less. With a playful giggle, Navy angled his face to nuzzle Violent's throat. "Mine," he muttered lazily.

"Get off of me," Violent hissed. He felt his fuel pump hitch uncomfortably inside his chest. It produced oddly warm feeling and was therefore highly unlikable.

"No." Navy said tartly. He was not going to let go anytime soon, it seemed.

Sighing in moderate defeat, Doga Purple nestled Doga Blue back. "Pest."

**Fin**


End file.
